A visit from the Nederlands Dans Theater is invariably preceded by months of excited anticipation. Divided into three separate companies, it is one of the most famous dance groups in the world.
NDT3 – the troupe of older dancers, ranging from 40 to 60 years of age – visited South Africa a few years ago. Then the youngest troupe, NDT2, dropped in and blew everyone away with their sexy, moving work. They made it clear that innovation is possible – indeed, necessary – in classical dance.
It was with these two legendary visits in mind that the crowds turned out to see the premier company, NDT1, performing at the Monument on Sunday.
The visit coincided with an important event in the life of the company as Jirà Kilián, choreographer and artistic director, celebrates his 25th year with the NDT – and his last. The programme for the show consisted exclusively of pieces choreographed by Kilián: four works, the oldest choreographed in 1978, the most recent in 1991.
The show was greeted with almost unanimous acclaim, although it was too classical for my tastes. A friend commented on the pervasive feeling of regimentation in the choreography, with individual dancers’ personalities subsumed by the ensemble. There were moments of breathtaking bravura, however, and brave choreography which probed unexpected possibilities.
No More Play evoked the spirit of a game as Kilián combined five dancers in a dazzling array of positions. In Petite Morte, six male dancers got up to some rather beautiful tricks with fencing foils, while six women sported 19th-century hooped dresses on hidden wheels, stiffened so as to move independently of the dancers. The effect was sublime and contemporary.
Falling Angels, the third piece, was set to a rigorous composition for drums by Steve Reich. The drumming, performed live, was so fascinating to watch that I missed a lot of what the eight female dancers were up to.
One of the problems with the choreography was its emphasis on unison work. Dancers were expected to move in exactly the same way at exactly the same time. Despite their skill, the choreography made impossible demands on the dancers, and the (very slight) differences in timing were foregrounded. This ruined the intended effect, which aimed at absolute precision.
There was enough anti-establishment choreography to give one a glimpse of what the company is famous for. Bodies were constantly used in unusual ways, exploring the possibilities of movement, space, light and sound. Lighting was used particularly cleverly. Except in the final piece (Symphony of Psalms), there were no sets to speak of, and an empty stage was transformed into a dynamic, dramatic environment simply using light.
Ultimately the show was a bit disappointing. The classical, balletic approach swamped the more thrilling anti-dance elements which were a feature of NDT2. What was so enthralling about the latter’s visit was the revolutionary way in which the traditions of ballet and modern dance were interrupted and upset, with effects ranging from profound sorrow to dazzling humour.
Nonetheless, it was an honour to witness such skilled dancers in a programme dedicated to one of the world’s most influential and intelligent choreographers.